nothing gold can stay

I got really lucky when I moved into my apartment last year: second floor and no apartments on either side of me. And the little old woman who lived below me was so quiet I wasn’t even sure anyone lived there until I locked myself out and had to knock on her door to use her phone. She moved out about two weeks later, and then it was just me in that part of the building.

Trust me, this paradise was hard earned. In our first apartment, K and I had some really choice neighbors. There was a guy who played “The Entertainer” on his piano over and over again. There was a guy who liked to piss off his balcony, and trust me, nothing spoils your dinner like looking up from your plate and seeing a yellow stream splashing onto your patio. And you know how, when they discover some new Dahmer, they interview the neighbors and they all say “He was so quiet I never suspected a thing”?

Yeah, I would have suspected a thing. And by “thing”, I mean a severed head in the freezer.

We had more luck in our next apartment, although there were still some snags. Two mentally challenged men lived next door, and one of them was a sports nut who liked to yell “Yeah! Fuck yeah! Fuck yeah!” after every single play.

Needless to say, I took advantage of my new solitude. I listened to my music loud while getting ready in the morning. I vacuumed at 2AM. I sang lustily in the shower. I jumped rope.

All good things must come to an end, though, and when I got home from work last night, there was a deck chair and a potted plant on the patio below me. I was annoyed, but not surprised. That apartment had been vacant for over a year, and I figured as long as they weren’t unbelievably loud, I could deal. I could learn to vacuum at normal hours like normal people.

But then…I heard it.

::patterpatterpatterpatter::

“Papi! Papi! Paaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaapi! Papi! Papi! Paaaaaaaaaaaaaaaapi!”

No, they weren’t filming Latina MILF Sluts downstairs.

It was worse.

It was a KID.

Now, let me state for the record that although I do not have kids and do not want them, I don’t have anything against them. They’re kind of important for the perpetuation of the species. For me, they fall into the same category as dogs: I haven’t spent much time around them, and they kind of scare me, but I’m also kind of fascinated by them. Still, I don’t want to live above one, especially if he enjoys yelling for his father at top volume. I could hear him over my air conditioner AND The Misfits.

Well, it could be worse.

They could have a kid AND a dog.